Nemessos
by claidibabaa
Summary: Hermione runs away from her nuptials with Ron...only to bump into the fugitive Draco Malfoy in her flight away from home. Where will they go? What will they do? When will they stop fighting? A story of high adventure, romance, Celtic magic and mystery.
1. Running Away, Right Smack into Trouble

**Nemessos**

Disclaimer: The characters of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: Some spoilers for HBP.

00000

Chapter 1: Running Away…right smack into Trouble.

It all, Hermione reflected, began to go downhill somewhere after seventh year.

It was quite insensible really, to feel so dissatisfied and unhappy. Voldemort had been defeated, the death eaters repelled, and everything was rosy and back to normal and shining and new and twinkly…but somewhere, somehow, in the pit of Hermione's stomach, was the feeling of unease.

The problem was not that she felt uneasy though. She was Hermione Granger after all. She was practically always uneasy! Either her studies or the life and limb of Harry Potter had always brought out her unease quite sufficiently.

The problem was that this feeling had everything to do with her upcoming nuptials to one Ronald Weasley.

She should have been happy right? She should have been ecstatic and drunk and whooping. And indeed, she had been, in a fashion. She had also had a very strong urge to wave her bottom in the air and brandish her ring in front of the Ex, Lavender Brown.

But the initial delight and euphoria had passed after a while, and she had felt herself growing increasingly troubled. It was not until she had found herself sitting very bored, in the wee hours of the morning, on the springy Weasley sofa with Ron next to her talking animatedly about Quidditch moves with Charlie, nearly jabbing her eye out in the process that she finally realized the source of her unease: She did not want to get married to Ron after all.

It was true. The idea of getting married to Ron now made her feel as if _she_ were going to throw up a bucketful of slugs.

Yes, she had looked at him with puppy dog eyes ever since second year when she had noticed just how _cute_ Ron Weasley was when he talked with his mouth full. And yes, she did love him in a way.

But…she was beginning to realize that she loved him like…like how she loved Harry, or how she loved Crookshanks, or – for Merlin's sake, how she loved _Hogwarts, A History_! It was not the kind of all consuming, passionate, beautiful _love_ that you somehow feel deep in your bones; the kind of love you feel when you wake up next to that special person every morning, and _still_ knew (like she knew one could not apparate out of Hogwarts) that he was _the one_ for you. To put it simply, and somewhat paradoxically: to Hermione, love should have some magic in it, and there was none in her relationship with Ron.

Perhaps, she reflected, it was because she had been pumped so full of that Disney crap when she was growing up. "_One day my Prince shall come_" indeed! She felt slightly resentful that her sensible mother had let her watch all those obviously ridiculous chauvinistic movies. Of course, she had conveniently forgotten the fact that she was the one who had sat there in front of the telly, starry eyed and demanding for more; daydreaming about the 'prince' who would one day come to sweep her off her feet to live happily ever after and enjoy the good books and chemistry sets that his castle would undoubtedly have.

It was too late by now to change her mindset of course, the idea had set into her brain like concrete. It was conditioning, or something of the such. She _knew_ it was a stupid way to think and she _knew_ that she was a strong female who did not need any rescuing whatsoever (Dolohov, with his missing arms could testify to that in Azkaban). But she had grown up with that idea and while she did not need to be saved her Prince had jolly well hurry up and make his way to her…now!

Furthermore, she could not deny that the lifestyle she would probably lead once married to Ron did not appeal to her in the least. Once, after a particularly…um…_heated_ make-out session, Ron had confessed to her, all googly-eyed, that he had always wanted a large family like his own. Unfortunately for Ron, the thought of being tied down with seven small red-haired children and one big, Quidditch crazed child made Hermione want to recoil in horror.

And while Ron was no village idiot, he was also not very particularly interested in intellectual pursuits. His idea of an interesting conversation was talking about the technicalities of the Wronski Feint (which he had insisted she learned the proper name of – honestly! Even Viktor had not required that of her, and he was the one who could actually do the bloody move) and whether or not regulations on size should be applied to bludgers across the Quidditch leagues in Europe.

Just imagine! Years and years of listening to absolutely boring Quidditch drabble with not one jot of intelligent conversation. The thought made her giddy, and not in a good way! And while she knew instinctively that Ron loved her and would try his best to make her happy, she wasn't quite sure if Ron _knew_ what it took to do so.

Most of all, however, she just could not stand all the winks and smirks of Molly and Ginny Weasley. One of Molly's two greatest wishes was about to come true (the other wish of course being that Harry would soon be absorbed into her brood as well). She wasted no time in talking incessantly about "what a handsome couple Ron and Hermione made!" and "how lovely everything would be once they moved into the Burrow (Moved in! Hermione had squeaked after hearing that piece of news Ron had neglected to tell her)!" and, the thing that took the cake, "what smart and adorable red-haired children they'd have!"

Ginny on the other hand kept making not so veiled insinuations about the _wedding night_, and oh, what _fun_ they'd have then! Honestly, while her first few stolen kisses with Ron had been thrilling, subsequent experiences had left her feeling as if she were kissing her brother. Their sexual chemistry, or lack thereof had not made her look forward to _that_ night at all. She felt that everything was being planned for her, and that she was slowly but inexorably headed towards the life she never wanted to have, not really living, but rather, existing.

It was all just building up, making her head spin. There were the preparations for the wedding, the endless number of cards to be sent out, all the happy congratulations from the onlookers, articles in the Daily Prophet, Ron's oblivious anticipation and loving looks sent her way…

She just could not take it any longer. And so she did the only thing she could think to do.

She ran away.

00000

Nightfall saw Hermione packing her essentials in a mad rush. Books and quills were knocked over in her hurry to dump them in her suitcase. She stroked her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ lovingly before deciding that the bulky tome was a non-essential item that she just did not have space to bring; besides, she had already read through it seven times. She did not even know how long she'd be gone, just that she needed to get away, and get away _now_.

Clothes went flying off their hangers in the deep of the night, folding themselves magically and being placed into the bag.

Finally, she picked up a framed picture of Ron, Harry, and herself, and gazed at it longingly. How she wished they could just go back to normal, back when they were just 13 year olds, getting into all sorts of trouble and adventures. She hated the complicated turn her life had made. She hated the fact that she had to decide the rest of her life right now, right when she was still only a kid, only 19. Yes, the war had forced a lot of them to grow up much faster than they had liked, but this marriage would finally sound the death knell on her childhood, the end of exploring, the end of growing up and learning. Shouldn't there be more to life, she wondered?

She slipped the picture of the smiling, waving trio into her suitcase, and uttered a spell to shrink it down to the size of a knapsack. It would be much easier to lug around all her belongings this way.

Finally, she left two envelopes side by side on her table. One was for her parents, telling them not to worry and that she'd write often during her sojourn. The other was for Ron. In it she had written simply, that she was sorry for all the hurt she was about to cause, but that she did not feel that they were suited for marriage, and that she had decided to take some time to think on what she should do next.

On hindsight, it was a completely, cowardly, foolish, non-Gryffindorish thing to do. She had just hurt everyone she cared about, especially Ron. But she just couldn't…she took a deep breath. She just could not bear to see the look on his face when she told him she did not love him enough to marry him. Not right now. She could just imagine Ron, all puppy dog eyes and trusting face crumpling into a hurt, confused look. _I thought you loved me_, he would say.

Then there was Harry, admonishing and stern as he would try to scold Hermione out of her decision. Molly, whose disappointment and pain for her son would cause her to revert to the time when she thought Hermione had been two-timing Harry with Victor. Hermione cringed as she remembered how cold and civil she had been then.

She supposed she was also afraid that once the onslaught of Weasleys plus Harry had finished their naggings and persuasion about all this being wedding jitters, she would be so cowed that she'd change her mind and marry Ron in the end like a good little girl. But she refused to be budged. This was no wedding jitter. She could feel the cold certainty like a knife in her belly. She did not want to be married to Ron.

Running to the outside her house, past the room of her sleeping parents, she cast one last wistful glance at the house she had grown up in, and at the haven that was always there when she returned home for the holidays. Then she fled down the street in the night, with only the chirping crickets to bear witness of her flight.

00000

The problem was that she did not want to be traced. How does one run away without leaving a signal? Hermione took a moment to curse the wizarding community's ingenious tracking devices for her inconvenience. Apparating was out of the question. That would leave signals and traces all over the place. So were the floo networks, especially if she did not want to be seen. She crossed out the Knightbus as it only operated within the UK. At that thought, she realized that she had not even planned where to go! She stopped her running to think for a second. More importantly though, what would she do once she had gone where she wanted to?

Feeling wretched and tired and sweaty all at once, Hermione sat down on the curb with her knapsack, shoulders shaking with exhaustion. Truly, she did not know what to do, or why she was even doing this. One part of Hermione was already regretting her actions. The other, stronger part of her was screaming at her to _getawaygetawaygetaway_ NOW!

Suddenly, a car whizzed by, causing the puddle on the floor to splash all over her jeans and shoes. "Great", she grumbled, "just what I needed to make my night complete". She whispered a quick Scourgify, drying her clothes in an instant. And like a freight train it hit her. She let out a quick "Huh!" Why did not she not think of this before? Wasn't she supposed to be one of the brightest witches of her age? Honestly, she told herself, one would think her brain was made of cotton wool! The answer was right there, staring at her in the face. She was a muggle! And muggles use muggle travel means! Like cars! And trains! She would take the train under and across the Channel to France, and then, the world was her oyster. She had always wanted to backpack across Europe anyway, right? This was the perfect opportunity!

With renewed confidence and determination, she set out to the nearest train station to take her to Waterloo, where she would then get on the Eurostar and depart for the train stop in Calais, France.

00000

The trip across the Channel tunnel had been uneventful, one she had taken numerous times with her parents in the past. Once she emerged in Calais however, she had to make the decision of where she wanted to go, and how she would get there.

First though, she followed the directions to a convenience store at the train station, hoping to buy a snack to cure the rumblings of her stomach. She had not eaten anything since her flight from home last night and boy, was she starved! Hermione felt a quick jolt of guilt when she remembered her last dinner in England had been with the entire Weasley family at the Burrow. The family she was now betraying. She wondered how Ron would take it once he read her letter and realized she was gone. Would he go in a rage? Would he break down and cry? Would he try to find her, or would he just give them up for lost? Shaking herself out of her reverie, she told herself to get a move on. "You created this situation," she scolded herself, "now you have to deal the best you can. Forget about the past."

She was paying for a ham croissant sandwich at the counter when a small coloured postcard caught her eye. It showed an unbelievably quaint, but beautiful French town, full of Gallic and Roman architecture jumbled up together side by side in a delightful mix.

The photograph of the town said, "Welcome to Gergovia!" She then remembered the history of this unique town from her History of Magic class at Hogwarts. Gergovia, nearby the city of Clermont-Ferrand in the Auvergne region of France was supposedly the epicenter of very mysterious and unexplored forms of magic carried out by the ancient Celts. In fact, their pagan practices dating back to 100 BC were thought to have been the first recorded instances of witchcraft and wizardry. Many old spells were thought to have originated from there, some, thought to be lost to the world after the Roman conquest of Gaul.

It was also the birthplace of Vercingetorix, the legendary Celtic druid and chieftain of the Averni who had united the Gallic tribes in their fight against Caesar. What the muggles did not know of course, was that Vercingetorix had in fact been a wizard! In fact, all of the 'mysterious' druids whose histories were by now lost to lore had been either wizards or witches who had gained the trust and leadership of the Celts at the time. The druids were much revered by the muggles, and had even been allowed to move from tribe to tribe.

This was probably one of the best well-recorded instances of cohabitation and cooperation between muggles and magical people, and the bookworm in her sprang to life as she thought of all she could explore of the Celtic culture; its religion, art, history, and, most importantly, its magic. The Celts and their druids were full of mystery really, and even wizards and witches today did not know all of how they had lived their life, and how the powerful druids as a cohesive group ultimately met their demise at the hands of a mere muggle, Julius Caesar.

Mind made up, Hermione immediately left the convenience store in the direction of the domestic ticket station where she would purchase a one-way train ride to Gergovia. She repeated the name to herself under her breath. Even its name felt beautiful and magical. There was a rightness to it Hermione could not explain. Yes, this was the place to go.

00000

"Oops! Sorry!" The French woman who was boarding the train glared at Hermione as she unintentionally jostled her Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee. Biting her lip, she waited till the woman had boarded completely before going up on the train herself.

Walking down the aisle, she was surprised to find that this train was oddly very much old-fashioned and Hogwarts Express like with its antiquated wood paneling and individual compartments. Seeing as the other compartments were already fully occupied by this time (the train was making a stop at Clermont-Ferrand as well), she walked to the end of the train until she reached the last compartment right at the other end.

Nearing it, Hermione felt a strange…twinge at the back of her head. A feeling she always got when magic had been performed. But…she thought confusedly, this is a muggle train. No one magical would be here.

Sliding open the door to the compartment, Hermione walked in to find a strangely clad man sitting as far as he could to the other end of the compartment, as if he was trying very hard not to be noticed, and doing the exact opposite in the process. He was wearing a large wide-brimmed leather hat that covered almost half his face, a long, black cloak that was pulled tight across his neck, black shoes, and, most oddly, pink and blue mismatched socks.

She sat down diagonally opposite him and stared curiously. There was something really familiar about him, but she just couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was. He seemed to be exceedingly nervous about her presence however, and was resolutely turning his head away from her, brim of the hat tipping forward as he shrank away from her company.

The train soon rumbled to life and off they were to Clermont-Ferrand (which would take six hours or so), and then Gergovia.

As the train jerked about the rails however, three very interesting things happened.

Number one, the strange man's hat seemed to slip, revealing shockingly white-blond silky hair.

Number two, said man seemed to look up in alarm, simultaneously pushing his hat up in panic, revealing his pointy, pale face.

Number three, Hermione Granger jolted up to a standing position, screaming at the top of her voice.

"YOU!"

00000

Author's Note: I apologize sincerely and most profusely for butchering Gallic and French history and place names! For those who are interested, the Averni stronghold was indeed Gergovia (where the Gauls had won a resounding victory over the Romans); however, I have no idea whether or not such a place exists now, or where Vercingetorix (a national hero and icon in France) was actually born.

Also, to those who are wondering, Nemessos was actually the Gallic name of Clermont-Ferrand (it is a very old city apparently) in the past. It means 'sacred forest'. Fascinating, no?


	2. Exile

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews for the first chapter! Admittedly, I am not updating very quickly for this one but thanks for bearing with me. **

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling. **

**Chapter Two: Exile**

Living in exile was quite simply, the most disgusting thing in the world.

Ask Draco Malfoy, he should know it very well.

For one, living in exile meant that one could no longer have access to pocketfuls of galleons, forcing one to work in horrible muggle establishments in embarrassing and pride-swallowing conditions, such as sticking one's head out of a window and asking filthy muggles in their filthy autobomiles if he "could take their order".

Living in exile also meant that said person again could not even reveal himself to the wizarding population, forcing him to cover up his god-given good looks, forcing him to camouflage his perfect, blond silky hair with a tube of horrible muggle hair dye in a horrible gross shade of drab brown.

Living in exile made one out of touch with events happening back home as well, causing one to not realize certain important events in history had actually occurred, such as the defeat of the Dark Lord, or, oh, you know, things like how one's mother was INCARCERATED IN ST. MUNGO'S FOR INSANITY.

And finally, living in exile meant that one could not sleep in one's gorgeous, comfortable, heavenly king sized bed, instead having to sleep in bloody abandoned shacks, sleazy motels, and bloody, bloody HOVELS IN THE GROUND!

The last was the reason why he'd finally caved in and, after determining that the Malfoy mansion was otherwise abandoned, apparated back for a night (just one night!) of pure, unadulterated bliss of soft silken sheets and non-tick infested mattresses.

One night had turned into two, and two, three, and then one week and then three months.

That moment of weakness was the entire reason why he now found himself in this gigantic shitty mess, on the run once again (though now with people who were actually actively pursuing him), and on a speeding train going 90 kph in the direction of another small, shitty town.

He'd been running for a month now; and sleeping on hard-packed grounds for two weeks had not helped matters much. He had a terrible headache, and the smells and loud noises that the muggles generated had only made his headache that much worse. He was fidgety, nervous, and scared out of his mind that he'd turn the corner or walk into a room and see…_them_ there. So nervous in fact was he that he had put a Muggle-Repelling Charm on his compartment, forgetting that those pursuing him were not actually muggles, and would probably recognize his magical signal now that he had set up the spell.

That he had remembered this only now, when a female figure was sliding open the carriage door and walking into his compartment only compounded his headache and made his hands shake uncontrollably in fear, making him want to scream at himself for his idiocy.

Finally, after several nerve-wrecking seconds during which he had almost whipped out his wand and _avaded _the intruder, she had walked in…and so surprised was he that he'd almost jumped in his seat, remembering himself only at the last moment.

Of all the people in the world…of all the people…why'd it have to be _her_?

Oh, sure, having her here was better than having that other her in here but it was only about one step up the teetering ladder and by Merlin, what was it that he'd done to deserve this!

Oh all right. He'd done plenty.

He turned his face away from her and stared at the wall, making sure his features were not reflected on the window beside him. He could practically feel her bloody curious gaze boring into the back of his neck but he resisted turning around. Inwardly he groaned. How was he supposed to keep to this position for six long hours! And with her sunny and disgustingly friendly personality she was sure to try to strike up a conversation with the 'poor, pathetic and lonely looking freak' trying to shrink into the woodwork of the carriage! That woman practically had a talent for finding and adopting lost causes! One had only to look at the eternally useless Weasel and Potty to see this, not to mention her ugly as sin cat.

Without warning, the infernal muggle train jerked on the rails and his hat slipped to the side of his face, revealing the other side to Granger. Panicking and forgetting himself entirely, he immediately looked up and reached up to jam his hat down to its proper position. He only realized a moment later that she was looking _right_ at him with an incredulous look on her face.

_Shit,_ he thought, as she stood up to scream at him.

They stared at each other, she, shocked to see the person she most hated after Voldemort whom she'd thought she had never had to see again; he, cursing himself at being found out and now deathly afraid of what she'd do to him, of how they'd throw him into Azkaban for what he had done to Dumbledore, and how the jig was now truly up.

For a while, he considered breaking the window and jumping out of the speeding train, then striked that out because being in Azkaban was more preferable to being dead. He did not even consider cursing her as he knew, much as he hated to admit it, that she was much, much more powerful than he was now, and probably quicker as well. He'd read of Voldemort's defeat in some old newspapers while he was back in Malfoy Mansion, and apparently Potty's little mudblood sidekick had cleaned up her share of Death Eaters, even being instrumental in the final defeat of the Dark Lord.

Exhausted, drained, and slightly delirious, he decided to fuck it all and just come clean.

"All right then! You've got me Granger! Happy now? You can ask your lackeys to come out of their hiding places. Go on then! Cart me off to Azkaban! I know you lot have been searching for me for ages. And while it's a pity that I'm now caught after all this running around at least I can say I evaded you fools for quite a while, can't I?"

He gave his best sneer to accompany his words.

Surprised once again, Granger could only stare at him with her big muddy eyes as if she were looking at a new species of rat.

"Malfoy…we…haven't been looking for you at all."

"WHAT?"

"You were pardoned for your actions involving Dumbledore's death. Harry testified that he saw you…lower your wand. He also said that Dumbledore seemed to know the whole time that you had been given the task to kill him, and seemed to forgive you. We also know about…about your family and…how you cried to Myrtle…"

He blushed at the last part.

Well, didn't that take all.

He'd been running around for almost three years and suffering for nothing and, because of his foolishness, was now in even worse trouble then ever before.

00000

**Author's Note: Just to clear things up, Draco's still in trouble, but not with the Order. Guess who then? Wait for the next chapter to find out…please? And again, thanks for reviewing! **


	3. The Sacred Groves

**Disclaimer: Not mine! It all belongs to JK Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! **

**To answer your question Maranwë, I plan on making this a pretty long fic. If and when Draco and Hermione do get together, they will probably not be saying their 'I love you's quite so soon, so don't worry! **

**Also, to teardrop blue: Haha, yes, the thought of Draco in a uniform with a little cap, sticking his head out of a window of a fast-food restaurant made me cackle too! Especially when all of it was for nothing! **

**Chapter Three: The Sacred Groves**

Hermione grinned inwardly as Malfoy turned several interesting shades in quick succession.

The shock of seeing him again after all this while had begun to wear off, and while she still itched to hit the little ferret with a stunner (or at the very least, Bat-Bogey), she managed to still her wand hand with much effort.

_Now, now, Hermione, one shouldn't go around randomly cursing people left and right, even if they are evil gits. Remember what Harry said? That Malfoy'd lowered his wand?_

_**So what? If it weren't for him and his stupid cupboard in the first place…**_

_But Dumbledore knew of his attempt to kill him…and forgave him at the very end. _

_**Ok then so where has the bastard been all this time!**_

To tell the truth, no one knew where Malfoy had ferreted off to after that fateful night at Hogwarts. While the Order found out later that Snape was no traitor, and that Dumbledore had requested for Snape to kill him, not a whiff had been seen or detected of one Draco Malfoy. Even Snape himself did not know, as Draco had run away from him and disappeared as soon as he was able to. He was definitely not with the Death Eaters, that was for sure, and the war had gone on and ended without him. Hermione had to confess that she'd even forgotten about his presence altogether.

_Well, at least he wasn't working against us._

_Still!_ A part of her complained. _The coward could've come over to our side to help us. _

While Hermione had been stewing in her thoughts, trying to convince herself to not curse him seven ways till Sunday, Malfoy seemed to have recovered from his own shock and schooled his featured together to ask in a derisive tone.

"Then what the hell are you doing here Granger!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. Here we go again. And she thought he'd leave the Hogwarts rivalry behind after all these years. Evidently not.

"That's none of your business Malfoy! In fact, I believe that I should be the one asking you: Where have you been all this time, and why are you going to Clermont-Ferrand?"

Draco considered telling her the truth for one second before screaming at himself and asking what, in Merlin's sweet trousers, was he thinking to actually be considering telling the truth to Miss Goody-Goody mudblood Granger. Besides, the truth was…entirely too delicate, and quite possibly not very legal as well.

He decided to take things cautiously.

"If you must know," he replied haughtily, "Gergovia is the ancestral home of the Malfoys, and I was just heading there for a visit."

Hermione snorted in disbelief, "Bollocks Malfoy! You're not just going there on a visit. You were 'on the run' (he could practically hear the apostrophe marks as she said this) not three minutes before now; don't tell me you weren't on your way there for a very good reason. Something's up."

Oh he _hated_ the way she was just so intuitive about these things! "I have a reason!" he shot back guardedly. "And it's to visit my ancestral home! Now leave it alone, won't you Granger! And I believe I asked you this question first. Why are you going to Clermont-Ferrand for?"

"If _you_ must know," she said coolly, "I happen to be going to Gergovia as well. On holiday."

He could have hit himself for talking about Gergovia! How was the hell was he supposed to get away from her now after they arrived? She mustn't find out what he planned to do!

As he grumbled inwardly about her (probably true) admission of going there on holiday, he started to realise that something was wrong…

"Wait a minute. If you're going on holiday, then where are Potty and the Weasel? I must congratulate you, by the way, for finally detaching those two amoebas from your person."

He congratulated himself on her blushing and flustered appearance. She seemed to be very uncomfortable about something, and he was determined to…weasel it out, so to speak! Especially since…

"Hmm, well, I would understand Harry not being here, being preoccupied as he is enjoying himself as the Great Shining Hero Who Just Would Not Die. But not the Weasel, especially since, well…" he gave her a sly look, "Since the both of you are scheduled to be married in what, a week?"

Ha! Take that mudblood! Trying to unsettle him eh? Well he showed her! He thanked his lucky stars that he saw their announcement of engagement in some old issues of the Prophet during his sojourn in Malfoy Mansion. Though, to tell the truth, he had wanted to gag at the time at the thought of the 'happy couple'.

Her delicate skin flushed a deeper shade of pink and she looked as if she were furious and embarrassed all at the same time.

"I…well that is to say…I…."

"Cat got your tongue Granger?" he drawled happily.

"Ron and I will not longer be getting married!" Hermione burst out finally. And while Draco had been quite happy teasing her and watching her face turn red, he had to admit that he was pretty shocked at hearing this admission.

"No!" he replied sincerely. "But I thought the both of you…"

"There is no more 'the both of us', okay!" she bit back tersely. "We…we just weren't suitable for each other!"

"How did he take it then?" Draco leaned forward eagerly. Well, any story involving the humiliation of one of his most hated people would be most entertaining indeed. Would probably make his day in fact.

She turned her head, too embarrassed to look at him. "Um…well I don't quite know." Laughing nervously, she continued, "I never did stay around to see his reaction. I…I wrote it in a letter."

"Merlin's balls!" Draco shouted, and then, oddly, started to laugh uproariously, holding onto his stomach and rolling around on the seat. "YOU RAN AWAY! HAHAHA!"

"Yes! All right! I ran away, ok? What's so funny about that? Stop laughing!"

"Oh…" he was still laughing. Really, this was priceless. He could not believe that he had lived to see this day.

"It's just that…you think you're so high and mighty, huh Granger, what with your supposed Gryffindor 'bravery' and 'valour'; I bet you thought I was cowardly to run away. Well, Granger this takes the cake. You're exactly like me!"

Her mouth fell open and she gaped at him for quite a while before shouting back, "The situations are totally different Malfoy! I am not like you at all!"

"Oh yes you are!" he crowed. "We both had to face certain circumstances that we were afraid of, and we both decided to run instead of staying to wait the consequences. Of course we are exactly alike!" His grin was full of mirth.

"I can't believe you're comparing a situation where you ran away from attempted murder to one where I merely…did not want to see Ron hurt."

"Come on Granger, don't tell me you believe _that_. Admit it. You and I, we're two peas in a pod eh?" He sat back in his seat and mused, "On the run together."

She in turn was silent for once, unable to say anything else, not even able to convince herself that he was wrong.

00000

The next hour or so had them both keeping to their respective sides of the carriage, trying strenuously to _not_ look at the other, both preoccupied instead in pretending that their very worse nightmare was not sitting just two feet away in a very confined space.

Sighing, Hermione retrieved the book about Gergovia and Vercingetorix she had bought at the bookstore before coming on board. So far she all she could discern was that it was full of the usual touristy drivel and folklore, but admittedly, every myth contained a figment of truth…

_Vercingetorix, the druid and chieftain of the Averni has always been a very mysterious figure. The man who united the Celts in the fight against Caesar, he was also the one who in the end, decided to surrender to the might of the Roman army and their unstoppable march through Gaul, saving the lives of many. Although revered by all of France, all that is officially known about him is a few lines in Caesar's autobiography, in which the Roman leader mentions the Celtic chief, lauding him for his bravery and power. After the war, Vercingetorix was brought back to Rome by Caesar to be 'shown off', as it were, in a display of Caesar's might. Nonetheless, he was executed not long after, and thus ends the story of Vercingetorix, Gaul's greatest hero. _

_However, local folklore and myth tell a much more interesting and fascinating story of the life of Vercingetorix. As mentioned before in this chapter, he was a druid, an order of mystical magic practitioners who were said to have accomplished many great acts of the supernatural. They were a mysterious and yet respected group in Celtic society, and, in many cases acted as influential advisers and even magistri of the clans. Born in Gergovia, it was said that Vercingetorix himself was possessed of a special power that no other druid had. This power of his, whose source purportedly resides in Gergovia itself, was supposedly what made him so influential and, seemingly invincible in the fight against the Roman army. However, it is said that Vercingetorix had suffered a great and deep betrayal against him by his beloved childhood friend, Diviciacus of Gergovia. The latter had apparently somehow 'stolen' this great power of Vercingetorix's, going over to Caesar's side and helping him to defeat Vercingetorix. _

_What was this strange and mysterious power? Till now, no one has been able to uncover what it actually was, and where it came from. Rumours and legends however have it that answer to what the power was lay in Nemessos, the sacred groves of Gergovia. Beautiful and picturesque, the groves are a soothing and relaxing retreat away from the rigors of city life that all tourists to rural France should take time to visit… _

Well, she snorted as she placed to book back into her knapsack. At least they did get something right. Druids were in fact wizards who had inter-mingled and formed communities with muggles. Their strange powers made them much respected by the muggles, who placed them in positions of great influence in their societies. She tapped her finger against the side of her cheek. Although…she had never heard of this story of Vercingetorix and Diviciacus before in her History of Magic classes. What exactly was this strange power? Part of her knew that this 'sacred grove' stuff was all just a bunch rubbish meant to seduce the unwitting tourist into visiting their little town. The bookworm and adventurer in her however could not resist the opportunity to uncover such a delicious mystery. _Well, Professor Binns did say that Gergovia was the epicentre of ancient and unexplored forms of magic…_The sacred groves it was then.

00000

_What the fuck was she smiling about?_ Draco scowled at Hermione as, absorbed in whatever little book she was reading as usual grinned and hummed (hummed!) as she turned the pages.

Well then, he thought. This little trip had better pay off! Not only was he on the run from some very powerful and pissed off people, but he had to endure six bloody hours in the company of a bloody irritating muggle witch as well! Of all the torture…

_Stop looking at her!_ He screamed at himself. But somehow, he couldn't help it. She just wouldn't stop her infernal humming! For some reason he was itching to know what she was so happy about.

_So I can ruin it all for her, yes, that's what it was. _

Just as he looked up, however, she leaned back and closed her eyes, hugging herself as she grinned with some kind of secret delight. And in that moment, she seemed to…glow. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

No! He told himself, panicked. Not glow! More like…oozed. Yes, oozed with mudblood-ness. Look at her, she's absolutely disgusting.

Secure in this knowledge, he went back to scowling at her as opposed to gazing in wonder and opened his mouth to say something (anything) to piss her off.

"So Granger, what do you plan on doing in this little holiday of yours. Not sit and read in the hotel room I hope? Though, you doing that _would_ be a service to all in Gergovia. That way, they wouldn't have to put up with your annoying know-it-all attitude and condescending nature. Oh, not to mention that busy hair. One could choke on the fur balls that undoubtedly fall off every time you brush your fingers through your hair."

She looked up at him, annoyed that he had broken her out of her reverie.

"No. I do not plan on staying in my hotel room. As a matter of fact, I plan on exploring what Gergovia has to offer. The sacred groves sound particularly interesting actually.

"Oh yeah? I'll be visiting the sacred groves too, so you'd better stay out of my way!"

Damn! He thought. Why the fuck do I have to keep opening my huge mouth? You have to stop blurting out these things to her!

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and asked, "Must you always be so disagreeable? Come on Malfoy, it's been ages since our school days. Can't you just let it go?"

"Let go of my hatred of a mudblood like you? I think not." He gave her his best sneer.

"Oh please!" she scoffed as she browsed through a newspaper that was lying on the seat. "Tell me a new one. After having fought more than two-dozen Death Eaters and facing Voldemort himself, that derogatory term hardly means anything to me anymore. You could really do better than that ferret."

He could not believe it. She was ignoring him! She let out a slight laugh as she read something in the newspaper that seemed to amuse her. He was getting flustered as she continued to ignore him in favour of the newspaper. He had to say something to get her attention! Who had he become if he was being ignored by even mudbloods!

Without thinking, he blurted out, "You know who else I'm on the run from? The Death Eaters."

00000

**Author's Note: Well there you have it. A little predictable though, wasn't it? However he's not on the run for the reason you might presume.. **

**Also, Diviciacus was a druid who was a confidante of Caesar's during the Gallic War. I thought that it might be nice to incorporate some real history in here (although I am convoluting it quite a bit!). **


	4. One Very Long Train Ride

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc. etc. **

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, but let's not waste time on the excuses and get on with the story!**

**Chapter Four: One Very Long Train Ride **

_Without thinking, he blurted out, "You know who else I'm on the run from? The Death Eaters." _

Draco only just managed to prevent himself from banging his head violently against the carriage wall after he said that.

But only just.

_Merlin…I am an utter idiot! All those insults from the trio over the years about how I was an inbred ferret were probably justified after all! _

He stopped his self-recriminations however when he glimpsed a most curious emotion on one Mudblood Granger's face.

Shock. Mingled with a slight anxiety.

Was she really…concerned by this admission? Now why would that be? Surely she was not concerned about him. Then maybe…she was concerned about Death Eaters on the loose? Newspaper reports had widely published reports of the Ministry's assertions that all Death Eaters had been captured right after the defeat. Obviously Hermione was in on their dirty little secret.

She recovered quickly though, and immediately replaced that look with one that she probably considered more becoming on her face when confronting a Malfoy. That of disbelief and loathing. She said in the snottiest tone she could manage, "Oh please, Malfoy. Like I'd believe you on that one. It seems that you've been too busy hanging out in your hovel (_how did she know that?_) to realize what's going on in the _outside world_, so let me enlighten you. All Death Eaters and other associates of Voldemort have been captured and executed immediately after his defeat by Harry. None are left."

Draco however had already seen her earlier waver, and let it not be said that Draco Malfoy was one to not grab an opportunity to make Hermione Granger uncomfortable when it presented itself to him so prettily.

He decided to draw this one out for his entertainment. Five bloody hours left on this trip, and fuck all to secrecy. This would be most worth whatever little insights (probably useless ones at that) Granger might glean of his plans.

He sat back languorously, leaning his large and lithe body back against the maroon cushioned seat. Taking his time, he flipped his now once again blonde and longish hair over his forehead, a strange gleam in his grey coloured eyes.

Hermione, upon seeing this new evil expression of his immediately tensed. A strange, familiar and instinctive feeling jolted up her spine, a feeling that she remembered all too well from Hogwarts. A feeling that reminded her of danger, suspense…and a whole lot of jelly-legs cursing and holding back of Ron and Harry.

She sighed.

A feeling usually triggered by the advent of Draco Malfoy-patented insults and trash talk.

"So…all have been captured you say?" he leaned forward, so close till their noses were almost touching. He smirked, and said so softly that she had to lean forward further still to hear him. His breath tickled her earlobes and she shivered. "Well, Miss Granger, you know, and I know, that that is not quite the truth, is it?"

She tried to prevent herself from sucking in her breath. Really, she tried. But it was too late. Damn Malfoy had this one now. She could see him grinning evilly.

"Nothing to say for yourself? Or for the Ministry perhaps? About how the lot of you have been lying to the public for months now? Lulling them into a false sense of security while you Order people go about trying to dig them out from their hidey-holes?"

"The only lying done anywhere is by snakes like you Malfoy!" burst out Hermione angrily.

"Tsk, tsk Granger. It's rude to call the kettle black, especially when you're the pot," he returned silkily.

He had made her lose her composure! He crowed on the inside. By Jove this was always the most fun he ever had in school. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed it. To tell the truth he never really had much stomach for the cursing part of the battle itself. His style was more of to provoke his opponents into enough anger to attack him, and then go squealing to the teachers about them to get them detention. Or maybe expulsion. Either one was fine by him; he wasn't a picky man, really.

The game however quickly turned against his favour with startling intensity. Merlin's balls. He knew there was a reason he never liked teasing Granger as much as the Weasel and Pothead. The memory of The Slap came whirring back to his head.

"And how would you know all this Malfoy?"

"Like I said," he replied, speaking slowly and carefully as if to an infant, "I am being pursued by them. I can give you names if you want. Just to let you know that I'm not the one _lying_ here," he finished triumphantly.

"Really? Well then, we have stumbled upon a very important problem with your story Malfoy. For one, why in the world would they bother to pursue someone like you?"

She was looking supremely confident now. Damn and blast. Don't get flustered, don't get flustered, don't get flustered...

He got flustered. "What do you mean someone like me? I'll have you know that I am a very much-wanted man for the Death Eaters. I after all betrayed them and ran away after being a much-valued member of the organization! Don't you understand, woman? Look what happened to Karkaroff! He didn't want to go back, and look how he ended up."

"Oh really?" she replied innocently, coquettishly, "Then why was it that intelligence reports from our people on the inside indicated that Voldemort…could hardly even be bothered with your existence? That was the sole reason you know why Professor Snape and Harry gave up on trying to find your sorry arse. They figured that you'd come to no harm from the Death Eaters. Especially since they did not particularly care where you were or what you did."

"Wha-wha…WHAT THE FUCK GRANGER!"

Hermione laughed merrily and returned once again to reading her newspaper. Granger 1, Ferret 0.

Malfoy's face turned red as a tomato and he yelled like a squalling child, "I am a very important person! Death Eaters all around are looking for me far and wide! That's the truth! And you know why? You know why they're looking for me? I'll tell you why! They're looking for me because…"

He wanted to hit himself! Why in the world was he spewing all his deepest and darkest secrets to Granger? What was it about her that made him tell her everything!

"Because?" she arched her eyebrows at him sceptically.

He turned to her now, stony faced and pissed off, refusing to answer her question.

"You know, I really don't know why Harry and Ron got so riled up by you all the time in Hogwarts." She flipped the page of her newspaper, ignoring him glowering at her. "Look at you, you're all bark and no bite. Like a baby tiger cub. How adorable."

She laughed at him again as he proceeded to turn his head angrily to the side of the train, resolving to refuse to look at her even once for the next few hours of the trip.

00000

Three hours though was more then enough silence for an easily bored Draco Malfoy. He kept sneaking peeks at Granger, looking to see if she was looking at him.

And why would he care if whether or not she looked at him? He told himself angrily. She was just a stupid mudblood, not fit to speak to him! He didn't care if she so much as looked at him! In fact, it was probably better that she didn't! Like he wanted a mudblood soiling him by feasting her eyes on his beautiful features!

Why hasn't she even looked at him once though?

00000

Half an hour passed.

"Granger."

"What, Malfoy?" replied Hermione calmly and unconcernedly.

"I'm bored."

"Well Malfoy what can I do? Go find the other children to play with," she sniggered slightly and he reddened.

"Tell you what, why don't you tell me why you left little Ronnekins at the altar?" he shot back.

Hermione stiffened and bit out, "Like I said before, that is none of your business."

"Of course its none of my business, I just wanted to know, is all. Can't a bloke get some entertainment on a boring train ride?"

"I decided not to marry him, and that is that. Now has your insatiable curiosity been satisfied? Now stop bothering me," said Hermione in a clipped tone.

His spirits had begun to perk up after all.

"Oh I think I can speculate enough reasons on my own," he said loftily.

She ignored him studiously.

"Want me to tell you?"

He continued as if she had run up to him and pleaded, "please Draco, oh please, tell me your wonderful insights as to why my engagement had broken down!"

"Well ok then, since you're so eager. The first's not that difficult to figure out. He is as poor as a church mouse. Didn't even have enough money to string together two rags to make a robe in Hogwarts. Ha, and I remembered that mother of his too! Hair all messed up, clothes in constant disarray – she looked just like a hag! Oh, and imagine having to live in that shack they call a home! How utterly hilarious."

"Better that than the hole you probably live in these days Malfoy," she retorted.

Deep in her heart however she felt ashamed, because while she knew that she wasn't that shallow, a part of her had been afraid she'd end up like Mrs. Weasley, hair perpetually in rollers and chasing seven children around that very same ramshackle yet cosy house while her husband gallivanted on the outside.

Draco ignored her jab and continued, "Or maybe it's his below-moronic level of IQ." He gave a tiny chuckle, "Ah, I remember those good old days. Boy couldn't find his wand from his own arse even if it was right in front of his face. I used to get him into so much trouble just because he was too much of an idiot to realize what I was doing. Not to mention he probably wouldn't have passed without you letting him copy all of your homework."

"Also, being as thick as a brick, he probably did not think much about you and your poor old needs, I expect? Spent too much time with the boys playing quidditch, am I right? Not sensitive enough?"

Hermione resisted the urge to curse him outright, if only that any active sparks from her spell might rebound on her in the small and cramped compartment.

She shouldn't have allowed him to continue though, because now his eyes gleamed and he said, with relish, "Oh yes, and I expect he probably wasn't satisfying you in bed, now was he? Well that can't be helped, we all know how Weasley likes to _rush_ things, how he's not so skilful with his _hands_, I mean, look at the way he catches the _balls_ in quidditch…someone like me, on the other hand…"

Hermione's wand whipped out so fast to point at his neck that Draco did not even have time to blink.

He gazed at her defiantly but did not stop speaking.

"Why," he managed to whisper hoarsely, still recalcitrant, "did I strike a nerve?"

"One more word Malfoy. One more word," her hands were shaking, she didn't know why.

He lifted one perfect eyebrow, looking so much like his father with his now longer hair, broad build and strong cheekbones that she wanted to throttle him, "Or else?"

"Or else…you spend the rest of this journey in the form I think suits you best – that of a bouncing, squealing ferret!"

He scowled at her one more time before retreating to the relative safety of his corner. Hermione exhaled the breath she didn't know she had been holding. She didn't know why, but Malfoy's words had struck a chord in her. While the reasons he had so wilfully spouted about why he thought she left Ron were absurd in their superficiality and shallowness, a part of her had to admit that some of those were part of the reason she had left. How did he know how she felt? Why was it that Draco Malfoy always managed to rattle her so much?

He had made those reasons out to seem so shallow to her. Were those what really mattered in a relationship? Didn't it only matter if she loved him?

But that was the problem, wasn't it? She didn't.

They settled back into a sullen silence.

00000

After six long hours and twenty minutes, the train finally trundled to a stop.

_Ahh_…thought Hermione, _we've reached Clermont-Ferrand._ _Another half hour after this and we'll be in Gergovia and _then_ I can finally be rid of this bloody arsehole of a ferret!_

Draco continued to sulk in his corner. She stood up and asked him, "Well, I'm going for a restroom break. I'll probably get some sandwiches. Merlin knows you don't deserve it but would you like me to get some for you?"

She never had her chance for the restroom break though (something she regretted a great deal later on), as the compartment door slid open with a bang.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A traitor and a mudblood, all ready to be plucked and eaten."

Bellatrix Lestrange, looking good in a slinky one-suit, stood draped at the door of their compartment, hand on one curvy hip, grinning malevolently at a frightened-out-of-his-mind Draco and a grim Hermione.


	5. Escape

**A/N: It's been a long time since my last update! Please note that this fic is not DH compliant. **

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling**

**Chapter 5: Escape **

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" Draco chanted in panic as he tried to flatten himself against the window of the train.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Must you be so vulgar?" she whispered.

Draco's eyes bulged out of their sockets. "Is this really the time to be preoccupied with propriety?"

In front of them Bellatrix smiled in shark-like pleasure. Hermione wrinkled her nose at her yellow and pointed teeth. Why were the British so lackadaisical about their dental hygiene?

The woman in question cackled maniacally. "Give it up. You fools are cornered. If you'll come quietly, I might consider killing you quickly."

Hermione sniffed derisively. "Surrender? To an old bag like you? Please, what do you take me for?"

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed and she grinned evilly. "You may not be afraid of me girl, but surely you are concerned about the plight of the Muggles in this train?

Hermione tensed, clenching her wand tightly in her fist. "What do you mean?"

Bellatrix let out a snort of laugher. "It will be very easy to blow this train up and everyone on it. Why, I think I might even take out this quaint little station." She twirled her wand casually as her goons chuckled at her threat.

"Go right ahead."

"What!" Draco shouted in shock. "Are you out of your mind? Are you not muggleborn you stupid girl! She's serious! She'll do it!"

"I suggest you listen to him Mudblood. After all, my nephew knows me very well, don't you Drakey?" Bellatric winked lewdly at him. Draco's response was to cower behind Hermione's back.

"No she won't." Hermione smiled confidently, "Because she knows that if she does any major magic, the Ministry Aurors will come down on her like a stack of bricks. They've been tracking her for ages. One mistake and it's the Dementor's kiss."

Bellatrix growled in anger, causing Draco to whimper in fright.

The two parties glared at each other in a tense Mexican stand-off. In the background, Hermione could hear the Conductor announcing the train's departure in five minutes.

It seemed then that Bellatrix decided on a different tact. She turned to Draco, who still cowered behind Hermione's back, holding on to her shoulders for his dear life.

"Tell you what," she barked brusquely, "You give me the diary, and I'll leave right away."

"N-no! Never! I'll never hand it over!"

"Give it to me!" she shrieked, her change in mood as volatile as ever. "Give it to me or you wish you were dead!"

It was then that Draco saw the next few seconds as if in slow motion. Bellatrix and her goons pointed their wands at Hermione and him in unison. He could hear the beginnings of the killing curse, but before they completed one syllable, he had dropped into a dank mud puddle, and Hermione had landed right on top of him.

00000

Groaning, Draco pushed Hermione off of him even as he cradled his stomach and tried to crawl out to a dry spot. Hermione shrieked indignantly as she splashed into the fetid pool.

He coughed violently as he knelt on his knees. "Are you crazy woman? What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Hermione stood up in anger, hair dripping wet with bits of dead leaf and twigs stuck in her still wiry curls. "What I thought I was doing?" she asked incredulously, "I thought I was saving your pathetic arse!"

She stalked off, muttering under her breath about ungrateful ferrets as Draco scrambled into a standing position and tried to catch up to her.

"Wait!" he shouted, as he stumbled over the gnarly tree roots that protruded above the ground, "Where in the world are we?"

It was only then that Hermione looked around her – and the sight took her breath away. All around them was lush, green forest; one that so sparkled with life it almost resembled a rainforest in a tropical country. Row upon row of trees ranged around them, each one of them fighting selfishly and strenuously for space and sunlight. The leaves on the trees were impossibly green, almost emerald, and all around them were the sights and sounds of life; birds chirping, insects whirring, leaves thrashing, and the persistent sound of trickling water.

Draco had noticed this as well, and it bothered him immensely that he could not make out the source of the water. Was there a river, or a stream somewhere nearby? That trickling seemed to be coming from all around him…or was it under him?

"Hey Granger, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" she replied huffily. She had regained her composure quickly, and was now trudging determinedly ahead of him.

He rolled his eyes. "That trickling sound of course. Don't you find that odd?"

"It's just water Malfoy. Why would it be odd? There's probably a stream or something near by."

"But…it doesn't sound right! If it were a stream the sound would be coming from one direction, but this sound's coming from all around us!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Are you getting barmy Malfoy? Bellatrix scared you into idiocy, hasn't she?" She turned around with a flick of her messy hair and proceeded to ignore him.

Draco fumed silently. How he hated that woman! To let his displeasure be known he barged through the messy undergrowth loudly after her.

After a few minutes she turned around to look at him incredulously. "Are you following me?"

He felt his mouth open and close a few times. "Me? Following you? A Mudblood? Why would I?" he said, spluttering.

She stopped and crossed her arms, and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Come to think of it, this is all very suspicious. What diary was Bellatrix talking about? Why were they chasing after you for it? You didn't steal anything from them, did you? Surely even you are not as stupid as that?"

"I did not steal anything from them! The diary is Malfoy property! It is mine by rights!"

"What's so special about this diary then?" she asked in exasperation.

"I…" Unexpectedly he shut up immediately and trudged very quickly past her.

"Excuse me?" she asked sharply. "What is going on with you?"

"Never mind me," he barked, "where the hell are we? I need to get to Gergovia!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, diary forgotten. "This is Gergovia you idiot! It was the first place I thought of when I apparated. I used the photo in my book as a guide."

She wrinkled her nose. "Well, more accurately, this is supposedly where the sacred groves are, Nemessos."

Draco's eyes widened. He looked around them carefully, and got the look in his eye of a man thinking very crafty thoughts. He _was_ hiding something! Hermione was sure of it. But now was not the time to ferret it out of him, so to speak. She was dirty, muddy, tired and in need of a drink and a good meal.

"Scourgify!" she cried, pointing the wand at her sodden clothes. Only, nothing happened.

She frowned. "Scourgify!" she said again. This time her wand sparked feebly, and while her clothes were slightly less damp they were not as clean as the spell usually made them. What on earth was wrong with her wand?

All right, she'd deal with that later. What she needed to do now was find her way to the town.

She brushed her clothes off and strode away purposefully. Okay, so it seemed that magic didn't work so well in the forest. She'd just have to use her muggle navigation skills to find her way out. Where was a compass when you needed one?

To her astonishment, Malfoy suddenly started walking off in the opposite direction!

"Oy! Malfoy! Where are you going?"

He gave her a scornful glance. "To the Gergovia town, obviously."

"How – how do you know where it is? We're in the middle of nowhere! We don't have a compass!"

He sighed loudly. "All right, since I owe you one for getting me away from my lunatic aunt, I'm going to do you a favour. See the sun? It's setting in about 3 hours. So that's west. Nemessos is three kilometers south-west of Gergovia. Hence, we should probably get walking in that direction."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "How on earth do you know that?"

"Ha! Finally something 'Ms Know-it-all' does not know, eh? Well I finished my education in a different school from you lot. One where I was constantly on the run from Death Eaters and aurors."

His voice hardened. "It was either learn how to dodge them, or die. I was never an excellent student, but I was always a terrific survivor."

His words surprised her. For a moment, he was a different man – harder, and more ruthless, but also grown-up and oddly vulnerable. So different from the prejudiced, annoying git she had always seen him as. Hermione did not know how to respond to this Malfoy. And so she said nothing, and followed him wordlessly.

Miraculously (at least to Hermione), they stumbled into the town centre about three hours later, dirty, tired and exceedingly bad-tempered.

Draco gave a mock bow. "If that's all, I'll be retiring for the night. As pleasurable as it has been, I must ask that we end our association tonight. Please go away and stop following me."

Hermione fumed silently. Of all the nerve!

"Gladly!" She spat.

They stalked off in opposite directions…

…And let out loud curses when they inevitably bumped into each other at the only inn in town.

"YOU AGAIN!"

"I'm staying here!" "No _I'm_ staying here you ferrety bastard!"

As one, they suddenly noticed the sign on the door that said there was only one room left…

They shoved each other as they barged into the inn and ran towards the front desk, fighting each other all the way as if they had just sighted the golden snitch in the deciding game of the season.

"I'll take the room!"

00000


End file.
